Tarot revised
by Moonsister
Summary: Few ever find the way, some never see it when they do...most never want too. Cheshire Cat, American McGee's Alice
1. Fool

Tarot The Fool

Every new beginning comes from another beginning's end. Thus marks the first step along the path. The Fool does not know where to start, and shall never see the end. Ever on the endless journey, he walks toward the distant sun. The light in his heart gives wings to his feet as the terrain becomes unstable. Oblivious to the spirits of discovery that keep his path clear, he stumbles, but never falls.  
And so Keirnanos, the Lord of the Dance of Life is reborn, brought to death, and is reborn anew. Forever moving in the undulating rythm of light and darkness.

With a defining grind and crack, the world seemed to come to an end for Amon. He watched helplessly as a support beam came baring down on Robin, nearly cutting her in half, killing her on contact. Only her upper body remained visible to him as he stared on in horror. As the light in her eyes died and turned milky, another beam shook itself loose, pinning him to the floor. His legs caught and shattered, he lay unmoving as he continued to stare at the peaceful visage of the young witch.  
The whole building was crumbling upon itself, he was helpless to move, or escape. Though thoughts of escape had been cut from his mind as soon as the young woman was splattered across the floor in front of him. He couldn't take his eyes off her, she had such a frail beauty in life, that had not been lost in her death. Though the lights had gone out in her eyes, the now milky jade irises stared off in his direction, as if pleading with him to survive somehow.  
She was no longer a witch in his pain racked mind. She was a young woman of delicate, frail beauty. The poster child of 'Gothic waif'. Possessed of a calm certain manner, and was ridiculously nice about everything. She was perfect, from head to toe, and mind to voice. She was perfect for him, and now she was dead. All the secret wants, dreams and desires he'd locked away now seemed tragically rekindled. Now he could want her in perfect comfort.  
He groaned, turned his gaze away, and slammed the back of his head into the floor a few times. It would be just like him, to want what he'd never have. To need a woman who could never be truly his. To find the missing part of himself, only to loose everything in one final crack. He returned his gaze to the woman just feet from him, and sighed heavily. His end would not come fast enough, he admitted. Even if he too had not been pinned, without Robin as a companion, his life would be torture. Her memory would always walk to his left, a shadow and torment to be carried and never forgotten.  
As the rest of eternity began to pass as it always does, Amon's conciouness began to slip. He chucked it up to internal bleeding and pain, and willed for the end to come along all the faster. His right hand reached of its own accord and brushed shimmering golden hair from an unblinking eye. Said eye shivered a moment. The movement caught his attention his hand lingered, then stoked the bridge of her nose. The concept of goodbye forming in his mind.  
The milky jade iris seemed to focus on his fingers, shaking his head, he tried to pull his hand back and let the dead sleep, but his body would not respond. Instead, the fingers found their way to her hair line. He sucked in air, amused with himself as his body decided he would die touching her. Fragments of dreams that had her in his arms in a most carnal manner returned to the surface of his mind. His thumb stroked her forehead, the eyes shivered again.  
He shook his head, he must be almost dead by now, he was seeing things. A horrid rasping sound came from the dead woman's direction. He turned his face away, he was hallucinating. She was gone, and he would follow soon enough. There was no point in fantasy, or hope now. He was crushed from mid thigh down, and she from waist down. There was no point in these tricks of the mind. But the rasping sound happened again, and it certainly wasn't coming from him.  
The skin under his fingers moved which called him to turn and look. Delicate golden brows where knotting over closed eyes. His breath jerked suddenly into his body as the eyes flung back open. Pure emerald irises focused on him, then turned to look at the stone and metal that pinned the small frame to the where it lay. A wave of heat washed over him for a moment, which made him realize how cold he'd become. The stone and metal melted away from the small woman, forming a crystalline arch over her body. As there was nothing further pinning her to where she lay, she rolled into the palm of his hand, dragging her body back into movable fashion.  
"A-amon..." A gentle whisper was his name. She clawed at the ground for a moment while she struggled with the broken half of her body. Slowly though, she raised herself to her knees, half crawling, half dragging herself over to him. "You are so cold..." She nearly collapsed on his chest as she reached the place where he lay. Regaining her ballance, she brought herself up right on her knees, and placed his head in her lap. "Please...please don't leave me..." She brushed the hair from his face, her hands were warm against his face. The weight on his legs lessened, and disappeared altogether. Looking down he realized the difference, it was the same crystalline arch that she left behind her. She began pulling on his body, dragging him backwards, causing unbelievable pain to wrench threw him. She kept whispering something that sounded more like a keen crooning than any sort of language, so he hissed and bit back the screams of agony that where threatening to escape his throat. The stabbing pain was replaced with a tingling burning sensation, like both his legs had been asleep for quite sometime.  
The burning, itching pain stopped, and so did her struggles against his weight. She collapsed over his shoulder, her face planted in his chest. To his surprise, he had a fistful of her hair, holding her head to him. His knee bent, and a leg worked it's way under him, as though no trauma had touched it. With the leverage he had on her head, he pulled her off him, and turned on his knee to look her in the face. Her eyes where wide and frightened, sad, and waiting. Her breathe coming in soft pants threw parted lips. Even in his fear of what just transpired, he wanted to kiss her. Again, she'd saved the day. Again, she had turned his life on it's head, and gave it a good shake. He felt like a snow globe as he pulled her into his arms and petted her head. Ran a hand down her back, deciding that seeing a chiropractor in short order would be a good idea, he dragged them both to their feet. She had done her job, now it was time to him to do his.  
Freedom was but a few feet way, in the form of a van that once belonged to the Factory workers. Now though, it would work as a get-away vehicle for his precious cargo and himself. He had her slumped in the back, wrapped in his coat, and still shivering. Food and a bath, and a long, true sleep would be well in order for them both. But for now, slipping from under Juliano's nose is top priority. 


	2. Magician

Magician

Mercury stumbled from Olympus with the truest of illusions firmly in his grasp. The light and warmth of fire, to fuel the minds and hearts of humanity. So the first of the Powers of God was first granted human kind. With it came the gifts of delusion, and betrayal. The illusions of passions, and the sparks of vengeance.

Such was not the intent of Mercury, though. He sought only to give a tool of enlightenment to despairing minds. A gift to bring light to the darkest of human hours. The first gift of Hope.

Hours later, an elderly priest was eying a piece of rosy quartz suspiciously. Turning it over in his hands, he found nothing peculiar about it's exitance. Expect form which it was found. Two quartz arches found in what was left of the Factory garage. Same garage that held a mini van that was missing, of some employee whose body had not been found as of yet. 

"What else could you discern?" The priest raised an eyebrow at the middle aged hunter before him.

"Blood was found on the floor of the smaller one." Chocolate hair brushed past caramel eyes. "There were drag marks in the dust, like someone of smaller stature had pulled a much larger person." The old priest nodded and turned away, leaving the conversation at that. The Hunter knew this scene too well to question, and wondered off in another direction. When the old man had orders, he ordered. The Hunter was on his own until further notice.

The old priest stared back down to the shinney chunk of crystal in his hand. Sighing heavily, he pocketed the chunk and turned to his gathered Clergy.

"We will assume that the Devil's Child has learned the art Zombification." He ignored the questioning looks. Whenever the girl's back was turned, this is how he spoke of her, a fryer thought grumpily. Have her stand in front of the the man, and he was the grandfather that God intended. The fact the that you deny her life is sacraledge. You will burn in Hell for this. "She must be stopped at all costs."

"Lucy will hate you for this, Juliano." Another priest murmured from behind the older one. 

"Lucy hates me already, this is just another she can count against me."

"There is much talk that you are killing off the Family, so Solomon inherits land and title." The second priest stared evenly at the back of Julian o's head.

"Such are not the ways of Men of the Cloth. I seek only to do God's Will."

"That is what we all say, it has not been true since the inception of the Church, and it is not true now." Juliano froze, was this truly a priest that was speaking to him. "What Solomon does, and what you are doing now is ensure your own means come to pass. Nothing more."

"My Will be done, then." Juliano stalked off, the speech he'd given Robin earlier, about Power consuming the soul. Then he knew he'd been talking about himself, him, addicted to his own immense power. Now she truly threatened him. No longer an adoring little girl, but almost a woman. A very strong minded, and willed woman at that. An Immortal none the less. He slumped into the back of the waiting car and sighed heavily. He was going to a warm bed, in the posh house he'd bought for his daughter before her wedding...where was the child of his child sleeping? More disgusted with himself than ever, Juliano stared out the car window, at the splattering rain. Trying to find someone else to pin the blame for his misery than his own actions. Finding it hard, he thought of the greened eyed golden girl that had been with him too short a time.

Same said girl sat on the edge of a hotel bed with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair still damp from the fresh washing, her eyes still wide from the events of the evening past. Still shaking from the shook of it. I was dead, she thought to herself for the millionth time. I was really dead...Amon...Amon's legs were mangled hamburger...what happened? What happened? The door of the room opened for a tall dark figure to slip in. It placed food down beside her and sat in a chair by the window, staring. She only looked at the bag of fast food and blinked at it. Not recognizing it's significance. This isn't good, thought the dark figure.

"They were extracting Ectoplasm from people..." She murmured, scarcely more than aloud.

"I thought Ectoplasm was ghost blood." The slumping form said from it's chair.

"It is." A slender hand appeared from inside the folds of the blanket, shakingly, it found a steaming mass of partial nutrition. 

"What happened, Robin?" The voice was dark, almost threatening. "We were dead."

"No...I was...They would have found you..." She nibbled lightly at the kill he'd fetched from 'Wackdonald's'. "I don't know, really. All I can clearly remember is remembering..." She noted the confused look on his face and swallowed the bite before he could snap any more questions. "I remembered what it was like to breathe, and I took breath. I asked you if you remembered what it was like to be whole, and limber...you said you did, and you were..." She looked back down at what she was eating, and was quite impressed with her ability to eat anything that wasn't moving. Amon shifted were he sat, he remembered no such conversation, all he remembered was shock at her moving figure and immense pain.

"Maybe you'll remember something more substantial later." Snapped the darker half of the conversation.

"But we are not talking about a substantial thing." She looked straight at him. "Amon, only a fire that can turn my bones to dust can kill me...the rest can only slow me down for a while..." She dropped her eyes back to the floor. "How sad, really...it is not the Words of Time that are so heavy...but the actions taken in that Time that weigh the most." A small smile began to spread across her face. "It really is all so absurd when you stop to think about it, isn't it?" Her eyes rolled back to his in a way that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.. At that he nodded, rose and bridged the distance between them. Grabbing her by the shoulders he hauled her to the head of the bed, and planted her firmly against the pillows.

"We both need to sleep now." He told her already closing eyes. As he lay down beside her, he wondered at her lack of fear. Did she truly have the upper hand here? Was he really no threat at all? He could never really over power her, he could never really make her do anything. She was just willing to oblige him, but why? He closed his own eyes as her breathing slowed to a steady, deep sleep. His legs were giving him fantom pains, as though he was still lying on the cold stone floor of the parking garage. Perhaps a part of him was still there. Perhaps, he would just have to get over being healed miraculously and get on with life...like she was trying to do. 

Then it struck him: She said they were making Ectoplasm...Ectoplasm is the blood of ghosts...Was Ziazen draining people of their Spirit? He asked his internal self as sleep caught up with him. 


	3. High Priestess

High Priestess

Rhainnon kissed the beak of a clay bird, and behold, it flew. It's voice filled the air with a million songs without words, giving light to heavy hearts. When the Goddess was tired from guarding the Tree of All Seeds, she gathered clay into her lap and fashioned Horse. Beauty and speed to go great distances without tiring.

With Horse and Bird, speed and sound, the Queen of the Underworld traveled to the Moon to look upon the Mirror of All Things; the great Oceans of Earth. What did she see, as she cast her gaze upon us? The truest mystery of them all, why love?

She was dreaming and she knew it, but she couldn't help fighting against the tied. Hundreds of years ago, she who came before learned the pain of hanging, now, Robin was forced to know that memory. She groaned and shifted, trying to wake herself up. But her mind was tired, and so was her body, so both resisted. A firm hand, and a strong voice made them obey her.

"Robin!" Amon was shaking the disturbed girl from her sleep. Brilliant eyes rolled wistfully open, to look warmly up at him.

"Thank you..." She murmured softly. "I was having a hard time with that one." She shifted under his hand, and pushed herself up to her knees still swaddled in the blanket. Amon shook his head and left the bed they'd shared. Had she really not noticed? He eyed her from a distance, hoping she wouldn't notice how nervous she made him. Perhaps she would be better off in Nagira's care...he mused silently. Though she doesn't seem to mind his presence.

Robin let out a sigh as she slipped her feet to the floor and headed for the bathroom. Morning ocurances had to be taken care of, but after that? Now what, she thought to herself. What was Amon planning, was he planning? Somewhere between washing her face, and getting a clean body suit on, she decided she was not going to run around the world. Having had enough of that with the monistairy. Six months in, and six months out in various countries, while it was good for linguistics, it did nothing for her well being. Same such well being that was so important now.

"There are a few apartments in Walled City that Nagira reserved for us." Amon said as she re-entered the room. His face shifted slightly in a way she did not understand when he looked at her. Seeming to take no notice, she took up the over-all skirt and started looking for her boots.

"That sounds nice." Was all she had to say about that, at least she didn't have to fight to stay in Japan, she thought. Having her own place would also be a bonus. 

"We're Hunted now, so work is going to be tough." Amon was certain he would shake her from this daze if he just kept pushing.

"Strip joints."

"What!" Amon's eyebrows shot toward his hairline as he turned to face her. Imagining her dancing on a poll in a crowded room with God knows who staring for all their worth was NOT going to happen. Not when HE was alive least ways.

"They always need bartenders, and bouncers." She looked up to see the look on his face, and grinned slightly. "I'm a fighter, not a dancer...I'd break someone's neck." You'd break more than that, he thought to himself as he too used the bathroom. 

The day ended with each in their respected hovels. In the same building, and just down the hall from each other. Robin was very pleased with hers, as it was hers and nobody else's. Amon was less than happy as he had a better place not a few months ago. Robin's only reply was that at least it was a roof, with no leaks. Upon that, he could no longer complain. Just sigh as the realization was now he was alone with his own thoughts, something he was never entirely sure he liked.

Robin on the other hand was a justing quite well. Sure enough, there was a strip joint looking for a bartender, and yes, she was very qualified for the position. She was quickly informed that dancing would bring her more pay, but she just shook her head and said that such was not for her. The owner didn't push it, as his last bartender had just died of overdose of some nasty sort. In short, he needed the help NOW. So naturally in a few short days, she was employed, and had Amon working there shortly after.

A routine had been set, and executed for a month without interruption. Amon was tired of beating people off the dancers, then beating the dancers off of himself. He was tired of spending more and more time at the bar to beat people off the bartender, who in all honesty, looked better than the dancers. He was sighing into his whiskey one paticularly eventful evening, as the place was being shut down for the night. When he looked up not into Robin's warm and wan regard, but into Miho's subversive scrutiny. He'd almost forgotten how much he hated that look. That was the look she gave when she was about to start something that he didn't want to deal with.

"Glad to see your alive." She smiled, but in a way that made him wonder what she was fishing for. 

"Yeah." Was all that he said as he took a sip, too much time with Robin. He'd forgotten that women manipulate the men they know into saying anything. "What do you want?" This took her back a bit.

"I just thought..." She turned away and looked up at the mix of bottles on display. "I thought that you would come back, if you could."

"What gave you that idea?" He had almost hissed at her, it had been a long night, Miho was irritating, but she was still a friend. She blinked, hurt, and seemed like she was just about to leave when a soft and soothing voice broke through to them.

"Karasuma, it has been a while...what would you like?" Amon stared up from his hunched position, that was Robin's most soothing tone, here to save the day and mend the strain between old friends. How she reminded him of Harry, a young, sexy, FEMALE Harry. He looked to his sides to make sure no one was ogling her. Chat in the back says that was a part of his contract with the boss. Amon sighed over his fate, good thing Robin doesn't listen to gossip. But then, it doesn't help when she instigates his over protectiveness.

"I was just about to leave..." The older woman gazed fondly at the younger one, still looking like she was fishing for something. "Looks like your closing."

"Stay for a Tahti, we aren't closed yet." The slender girl was already mixing the drink. Miho sighed, and smiled down at the bar. Robin's presence had always been warm, and difficult to refuse. So she nodded, had her drink and sat in solemn silence next to Amon, whose eyes kept darting around like they used to do when they were Hunting as a team and many male strangers were around. Though he never seemed so protective over the other women on the team. This of course caused Miho to wonder, once again why Amon acted so differently around Robin. Truly, hadn't the girl proved that she didn't need any of them, repeatedly, and from the start?

"Well, goodnight, the both of you. We have no orders-"

"You will not receive such orders either." Robin said with a smile. "I think you know why." With a wink, Robin was off to her last minutes and Amon nodded goodnight to the empath. Who shuffled out of the bar with a confused look on her face. Robin really was an odd bird, she thought to herself. Thinking back to when they first met, and how Amon tripped over himself in her presence. How he tried not to show what was blatenly obvious. She shook her head as she got into her car, and started the trek back to her own home. Robin had never needed any of them, and that is why Amon was with her. She didn't need him.

It was well past the wee hours of the morning when Amon was seeing Robin to her door. As it opened he let himself in and made himself at home on her couch. Staring at the newly applied wall paper of pail minty green and butter yellow design, he ignored Robin's questioning look as she closed and locked the door behind her.

"Are you hungry?" She asked of the brooding one on her couch. She really didn't feel like twenty questions, but he'd been in such a mood all day that she thought it best to humor him.

"No." He said simply. "I just don't want to go home right now."

"Mia cassa, sue cassa." She murmured, with a wave of her wrist. Amon's lip curled in the corner. My home, your home, he thought, and leaned back into the soft couch. Before he knew it she was standing in front of him with a cup of tea, and the remote control in offered poise. He took both with a nod of thanks, and she smiled.

"I smell like smoke. I'm taking a shower." She was already halfway in the bathroom as she spoke. And the stench of dirty old lusty men panting on you all night, he thought. The door was closed before he could reply. What was he thinking anyway? He was the one doing most of the panting on her, though she never seemed to mind him. The only reason the back room joked about him being the body guard of a bartender, was because she was so exotic looking that those emerald eyes would have her in a bad way without him being there to look after her.. The Boss didn't mind, as Robin was the best and most reliable in this part of town anyway, and she was good for business. He listened to the sounds of her shower, and watched the TV on mute. Not that on the surface she needed him in any way. But if she didn't, why did she always turn to look for him? It could be reasoned that she didn't want to use her powers in public, but he'd seen her do that a number of times. Mostly in front of drunk people who thought she was a magician on the side. He chuckled to himself at the memories. His attention was called back to the TV, and turned the volume up a bit as something caught his interest. They were digging up the Factory still, and still the body count was growing.

--"...incinerators with human remains was found at the Factory Site." The reporter said. "A cross check is being done against the missing person's list. Police Enforcement are recommending that relatives that are missing loved ones please come in and leave a DNA sample with the CSI department..."

Amon clicked the mute button back on, and put his head in his hands. Now he felt like crying...human remains in incinerators. This did not bode well.

"But why?" Was all that slipped past his sealed jaw, not really looking for an answer.

"Because not everyone has a potent enough craft to yield any Ectoplasm." Her sweet voice did its best to soften the blow. He turned to her as if to say something but stopped to take in her appearance in the living room. Dressed in a bathrobe, with her hair down and still dripping slightly. She grinned wistfully and shook her head, causing her hair to dry instantly. "More tea, Amon?" Her eyes where so kind and thoughtful.

"No." He rose from where he sat and just stood there. His hands found the pockets of his pants and his eyes rested on the sofa of incredible softness. "What does it take to extract Ectoplasm?"

"Should I get you a pillow and a blanket?" She understood after all so he only nodded. Leave it to an Italian not to care WHO slept in her living room. "It takes an Elemental force that has imbued the protoplasm. Apparently it takes a certain 'charge' before it can be extracted."

"What sort of charge?"

"Hallucinogens, mostly. PCP, and Methamphetamines more specifically."

"You've known this all along?" His voice was trying not to force the coldness he felt on her, though, he doubted that it was working.

"We were all so busy at the time, and the truth has a way of working itself to the surface anyway...why not let it in its own time? Would such knowledge have helped you then?" She wasn't looking at him, she seemed hurt, but whether it was because of him or the situation, he couldn't tell.

"Your right, you know...it is all absurd when you look at it." He'd taken off his coat and boots and was now laying out on her couch as she draped a blanket over him. At this, she smiled and nodded, tucked the corners around his shoulders, and made sure his toes would know no draft. He was asleep in moments, something that very few people, not even lovers, had the grace of seeing.

After she saw him tucked in, and into her own bed, she allowed herself the chance to worry. One day, Amon is going to demand answers from her, would she be able to keep them to herself? Or would she fall into the trap that most young, trusting woman do, and tell him anything he wants to know? Something she'd proven to herself this morning, how little it took him to get what he wanted from her. What more would be asked, and was she of the mind resist? How could she refuse someone who gave up everything familiar as she learned that everything she knew was wrong? She lay on her back wondering about all sorts of things until the sun rose and peaked through her window. Her last thought was what was she going to do about her birthday that just a few days off. 


	4. Empress

Empress

Gaea hid herself in the deepest, darkest cave she could find to give birth to her latest child. This child, she'd promised herself, would not share the fate of his brothers and sisters. This one would not be eaten by his father. 

The price, however, would be that he would not know sun, nor moon until he was strong enough to fight for himself. She brought him to life, and protected him the only way she could, ultimately though, his survival would be his own doing. So is the woe of the Mother, and the Joy of Her Success.

Her last born would save the world from tyranny. Her last born would save himself, and his siblings, by killing his father. By the destruction the old, the new can rebuild the future into something better, something stronger.

An elder woman sat sipping wine on a wide veranda on a sunny Veniessian mid afternoon. This woman was not a happy one at the moment and was impatiently awaiting a person of her employment to arrive. Her chocolate hair was turning sliver, her large caramel eyes had their share of laugh and worry lines. In all, she was tall and graceful with an air of importance.

Though, the importance was more than an air. Luccina( lu-CHI-na) Colegui was extremely important. She owned a great many businesses and estates throughout Italy and Greece, and the world. She had Solomon by the balls, so to speak, in the US and Canada, something they did not take too kindly. Though, Solomon took very few things kindly since the insurrection of her daughter Maria.

Such was the biasness at hand. What to do with the affairs of the Family. Solomon had begun heavily plotting how to take charge of her vast fortune, using her Craft wielding grandsons, and her now priestly husband. Only one girl to lead the Family through the next generation, and not enough blood relatives who still believed in the old ways to send to protect her. It had been against her better judgment to allow the girl's grandfather custody, though, the education of a monastary is not to be taken lightly. Who knows what she was told when guardianship was transfered.

Luccina sighed heavily, setting her wine glass down and listening intently at the ruckus behind her. She would leave the task of finding, and guarding the young woman to her own great-great-great grandsire. If the old monk would wonder out of the wilderness and show up. Maybe she should send her favorite grandson as well, his mind was not so enfeebled with age as the old monk's.

The commotion yielded her oldest grandson, the first born son of her first born son. She eyed him watchfully, how sad that greed was such a strong emotion, she thought to herself.

"Grandmother, Rasputin is here, and there is news about the 'Devil's Child'." 

"You mean your cousin, and the future Lady of this House?" She hissed angrily at the boy. They had gone over this one hundred times before. "You've spent too many years around that old fuddy-duddy I once called husband."

"It is the Tradition, boy." A mellow tone irrupted from behind the chocolate haired man that stood well into his twenties. "It started in Egypt, all the land and goods be passed from grandmother to granddaughter. As no man can ever truly claim sire-hood over any child...until quite recently anyway." The large, scruffy looking individual sat himself down across the table from Luccina, helping himself to a cup of tea, and enjoying the afternoon. 

"What have you learned, dear grandson?" The warmth returning to the old woman's voice and she waved him to sit beside her. As irritating as the constant reminder of her girlish years were, she couldn't help but love the boy for all the boyhood years, even if Solomon had polluted his mind with Christian fanaticisms.

"She is still in Tokyo, the empath at the STN-J caught sight of her a few days ago." Was all he said, as he too sat and sipped his tea, thinking about his little cousin. "She is not alone, Grandmother...I am happy for that." He said in ernist to the bottom of his cup. Luccina smiled, he still had his heart then, she thought approvingly as she patted his knee. 

"Go with Rasputin and find her. Be the first of her guards." She smiled lovingly at the startled looked she received. "Forget everything that old priest has told you about the inner workings of this Family. It was never his to know."

"But, grandmother-" He knew what she was asking, was she really ready to call it a life? The wave of her finger told him yes, yes she was.

"Go, and be good. Like you always have been." She gave his knee one last squeeze, and brushed both men off. 

"Lucy was always such a lovely girl." Rasputin whispered to the the much younger man on the plane to Japan. "I bet this Robin has turned into one as well. You said she wasn't alone, who does she have with her?"

"A toy." Was all the caramel eyed man could say. What he ment was 'the silent type that enjoyed sulking in dark corners and growling at people who didn't leave him alone'. His mind though would not leave the thought of his grandmother, sitting on the veranda, sipping wine, trying desperately to not try poisoning the way-ward husband that left her good company for a cold stone monastary. He shifted in his seat, all because not only was his favorite child (Maria) a witch, but all his children were. Little did the old male fool know it was the instability of HIS genes that killed off all his children. Only three of the grandchildren remained, one of which was jokingly referred to as the 'Devil's Child'. Juliano more than likely would have had the Lady killed by now, with the strongest of her guards gone for the new Lady, and Land. The Land of the Dawning Sun, the First Light. You better be what she thought you are, Robin, or I'll kill you myself. He shifted in his seat from the thought, Grandmother would have barked something horrid if she'd heard that one. But the telepathic bat was now lost to him for ever. All his hope now rested on a sixteen year old girl.

"Two rogue witches are arriving at Tokyo airport in two hours." A young hacker told no one in particular.

"Really?" Replied a platinum blonde woman, who appeared over his shoulder. "Is there something odd about that?"

"Yes. Tobias Colegui, and Rasputin." The hacker released the held breath at uttering the word 'Colegui'. His first REAL friend since he was 'employed' by Ziazen had that name. He eyed the blonde who was hanging too close.

"Colegui..." She looked at him with hope. "Do you think?"

"I hope, but it's Rasputin that is really interesting." The hacker elbowed the woman from over his shoulder, he'd only let Robin have that hover spot, and he'd keep that clear for the day she returned...even if she never did. "Looks like he is THE Rasputin. As in Solomon won't touch him with a ten foot pole. I think they think she's alive," And if she's lucky, they are coming as reinforcements, he grimaced to himself. Maybe there will be a change of employment, and Robin would need a good hacker. Maybe they could watch Monty Python again, that is, if Amon lets anyone near her.

At the bar, at closing time, again. Amon was again drinking whiskey and watching the slender blond do her thing. As usual, he was scowling at anyone who watched her for too long, or demanded too much of her attention. Tonight had a different air to it though, Robin was lost in her own world, working on auto pilot. Was it because he'd all but moved on to her couch? Or was she on the rag? She never gave any tell tell signs of that event, like other women did. He often wondered if she even menstruated, how would immortality affect such things anyway? What ever was going on in her head, he didn't know, and wasn't about to pry. His own imagination was working wonders as it was. He breathed deeply to clear the lusty thoughts from his head. As if she sensed his thoughts on her, she looked up from her reiver, and smiled at him. Refreshing his drink, and winked as she warned him with her eyes the approaching dancer.

Said dancer slipped up to the bar, and received her own drink with congratulations for a good night from Robin. This she accepted with grace, and began to see how far this night would take her with the one bouncer no one had been able to 'bounce'. 

Said bouncer did his best to ignore the fake eyelashes batting away at him, and the nuzzling. Until too much contact was made, then be began to brush the female off. Persistent when she wanted something though, the young woman continued her work on his determination. He was in the middle of shoving her off when he heard an unfamiliar voice speak a very familiar name. His back stiffened, and the dancer almost went sprawling to the floor.

"Long time no see, Robin." Chocolate hair brushed over dusty skin, and caramel eyes. The green eyed girl-woman simply blinked at the new comer, totally unaware at the seen before her. This made the dancer more than slightly irritated. Who was this NOBODY that was more confidant about the company she kept than anyone had right?

"Indeed, Tobias, what do you drink?" Her eyes darted over to Amon's, whose face went to stone in instant jealousy. "Amon, this is Tobias. Tobias, this is Amon."

The caramel eyes took Amon's in a piercing gaze. "I'm here to guard you, Robin. Our grandmother's, Luccina Colegui's, dieing wish." With that, he placed a photo down on the bar, making Robin jump.

"Our GRANDMOTHER?." She breathed, looking confused at the old photo. A stab of betrayal brushed though him. Did she not know? Or was she lied to, like he was, by Juliano and his cohorts. Her hands went back to work as she looked back at Amon., he was eying the new comer with such vehemence that he forgot about the dancer that was still trying to drag him off. "I have had Amon with me, and have never been safer." She murmured, looking down to what her hands were doing. Suddenly wanting to cry, and not really knowing why.

Tobias raised an eyebrow at the tone she had used, a most adoring sound had just escaped her throat. He saw the distinct lines of badly hidden jealousy lift off the face of the man who was still trying to get the other woman from draping on him. Finally the man just flung her off and looked at Robin. 

That was the face she made when she was in most distress. The disgruntled bouncer noticed with increased irritation. The protectiveness in him made him want to end the conversation by killing the intruder. The dancer gave up, and left in a huff. Deciding that her tactics weren't working, and a new plan should be devised. 

"What do you want?" He demanded instead of obeying his more primal instincts.

"To full fill the request of our Grandmother. I will stand guard of the new Lady Toudou." Tobias took the whiskey offered him, not because he liked it, but because the new Lady had given it. Amon frowned, and looked again at Robin, who shrugged without looking up. 

"Fine. You can have my apartment, I haven't been using it." Amon said as they stood to leave as Robin had finished her night lasts.. Amon tossed the man his keys. 

"You OK with this, Robin?" Tobias asked of his young cousin, who only nodded. He followed them home, and watched with great care as she unlocked her door. Letting Amon in first to make sure it was clear before attempting to enter. This was obviously a well rehearsed dance that both were comfortable with. So he watched the halls, making sure nothing would impede her safe home coming. Though he, personally, thought the place far too shabby for one like her to dwell.

She paused in her threshold for a moment, Amon stopped in his tracks, half way to the couch. She'd finally formed the question she'd wanted to ask all evening.

"When did she die?" Robin's voice almost cracked.

"This last night, about 8 in the PM." Tobias watched her face closely as it turned a whiter shade of pale and she turned away.

"Oh, thank you." Was all she said as she followed Amon in. "Goodnight, Tobias. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, happy birthday." He replied, and went to the empty apartment down the hall.

Robin didn't notice that Amon had bridged the distance between them. So she ran straight into his chest without noticing it loom before her. Her nose made contact with the scent that made her feel safe and warm, strong arms went around her shoulders, and one large hand cradled her head. As if on cue, the tears that had been shut away for twelve long years exploded out of her in near silent waves of locked away misery. The woman she thought was her mother hadn't died so many years ago, like Juliano had told her. Why was she so surprised that Juliano's lies ran so deep? The sobbing was not letting up as she wrapped her frail arms around the one person who seemed to understand here. So she began to do the one thing she had never been allowed before, the comfort of clinging.

Once again it was the wee hours of the morning that Robin found herself wrapped up in her bed. This time, strong arms were petting and holding her, though she was so tired she was half aware. Perhaps that is why the strong presence was there, she couldn't have gotten this far on her own. 

"When did you think she died?" Amon's resonant tone droned in her ear. He did not sound pleased at all about this particular turn of events. 

"I thought Luccina Colegui was Luccina Sena, my mother." She snuggled into him further, afraid that he'd let her go before she was asleep.

"Happy fucking birthday, indeed." He snorted sarcastically, and tightened his grip on her small frame.

"It's all right...has been the best one that I can remember..." She murmured up to him just as she fell asleep.

"Like that says much." Amon said to a now sleeping woman. He tucked her head under his chin and sighed. He'd finally gotten to the place he wanted to sleep the most, and all he wanted to do was get up and hurt someone. He sighed again, and curled around the small woman in his arms. He really was a lech, as his own brother had called him in jest. But suddenly, being a lech just didn't feel that bad. If this was him at his worse, than he was doing good after all. 


	5. Emperor

Gukumatz, born of the oceans and air, Earth and sun rose from the watery depths of his birth to guild humankind in ways of art and agriculture. The ever expanding minds of the curious people viewed the feathered serpent as a God of Creation. 

Unto the Toltecs, he taught patience and acceptance. A reverence of all things in being, and an alchemic way of moving in their environment. Later, with a new name, he taught the Mayans Time. This gift saved them the terrors brought down upon the Aztec, who knew Gukumatz as Quetzalcoatl.

As all good fathers, he did as he could to teach his chosen children the difference between right and wrong. Ultimately, though, we would have to chose for ourselves the path we will take. So into the oceans he returned, vowing to come back when our time of greatest need comes upon us. So is the way of the Father.

A shabby figure in a decrepit coat paced the mote that surrounded the once proud site called the 'Factory'. Shaking his head, and muttering in a ancient, strange language, the figure turned back toward the trees with a heavy sigh. They were angry, the trees were, and this was not a good sign. What terrors really did exist here? The man wondered silently at the threshold of the forest. The ancient leaf bearers loomed above him, more than slightly menacingly. Not a leaf moved, nor twig shuddered in response to his own increasing age.

Never the less, he passed beneath their bows, whispering continue-sly to them as he sought their center. Attempting encouraging words and emotions he did not himself feel. He sat on an outstretched root that dug into a small stream which had etched itself a place in the strangle hold of the thicket.

"No bird, no beast. Not even a beetle to keep you company." He sighed in the trees' own language. "No wonder the anger." He sighed again as he gazed into the moving water. Normally, the trees would respond to him, but here, they kept their silence, and a strange distance. "But you have seen her." A leaf quivered, the ancient grinned, they were still listening. "Was she what we hoped?" The same leaf let it's opinion be known by a sudden shiver. The shabby figure straightened, and did not look so disheveled, a wild sort of grin smeared itself across his face. "The time has come for greater things." He announced to the now milky sky.

Amon lay beside the golden haired girl-woman, watching her breathe. His nose inches from hers, he could almost hear her dream. The remaining dark of the morning had past in this manner for the pair. He lay there, pondering what she had said, and she slept the strain of her tears off. 

His hand brushed past her cheek of it's own volition, he could only watch it. When did this witch become his world? He wondered to himself. Was he doomed from the beginning? Could he not get away from that which has haunted and tormented him since the loss of his mother. Which by all honesty, was well before she disappeared. He sighed to himself as his caress didn't even stir a reaction across the gentle brow. Was he doomed to loose HER too?

Why he continue-sly clung to this frail creature was beyond him. Had been since since they passed each other in Harry's. She'd always been the difference, made the difference. Since their first hunts together, where she'd played by her own rules. Only obliging the ones she'd been given when it was absolutely necessary. It had been Dogima who had tried to tell her to sit there until she was needed. Even then, Robin had let the comments fly by her as if nothing had been said. Till they realized the true nature of her exitance. Still, Robin did as she saw fit, as she saw was right. This scared him then, and scared him still. One can never trust what an honest person will do...but is it better to do only what society wants you too?

The hand paused at the juncture of jaw and neck, delicately thumbing the bone line. She had been horribly upset over the news of her grandmother. The woman who Robin was raised to think was her mother. The same woman who was supposed to have died in a car crash when the girl was four, or so. Robin's reaction to the old woman's murder triggered something in him that he couldn't quite put a finger on, something that has denied him rest. 

It had been a bomb that went off in her mind, and she'd sobbed against him for hours. Uncontrollably. She finally calmed when her body gave out, and at that point, she simply collapsed. All her energy spent, her mind numb and unthinking, hence why he was allowed to stay so close for as long as he has. He sighed heavily to himself. What was it that triggered such a reaction in such a stalwart individual? Robin was not emotionally unstable, or disturbed. He rolled to his back, a furrow found it's way across his brow.

As on cue, the sun chose that moment to rise and settle in through the bedroom window. And, as luck would have it, it laid itself across Amon's face. The man sat up as the bomb that had hit Robin the night before whistled and dropped on him. He was standing, and pacing the living room in less than two seconds. The ramblings in his mind sounding like an excited squirrel. 

Everything he knew was wrong. Everything he'd been taught to believe was a lie. All his memories are tainted with these lies...his mother, his father, himself, Robin...all those people he'd hunted and doomed to torture in the halls of the Factory. All of his life was based off the greed of a few people who'd convinced the world that they knew God's plan. These people, who with a straight face, demanded that one turn over one's free will and serve unquestionably. The true nature of 'Power of God' came into full focus in Amon's mind, and it was not Robin who wielded it.

Amon's pacing wasn't letting up, and the rabid squirrel that was his mind was talking faster. He didn't even notice the small figure suddenly standing in the doorway to the bedroom until he ran into her on his way across the living room. Her slight figure not even covered by the tank top and boy cut panties. With her hair in disarray, she looked somewhat comical.

The sputtering squirrel stopped in it's tirade as the image before him shifted. Instead of the vibrantly alive and mostly undressed Robin standing in her doorway, he saw the milky eyed, black draped waif that lay dead on the Factory floor. For just an instance, his mind took him back to the moment where his legs where held crushed under the stone slab that should have been his tombstone, and the woman he'd fallen for lay stretch on cold stone, slightly reaching for him. His heart seemed to stop and crack in his chest, and he pitched forward.

He didn't see Robin leap to catch him as he dropped to the floor, nor did he recognize the moment his head didn't bounce on the hard wood. All he could see was the smoke, and debris that should have buried them both. All he could feel was the heart ache of never seeing her smile again, or hear the sound of her bubbly giggle at his dry, tasteless jokes, that no one else seemed to catch. All he could smell was death, disappear and destruction.

Two other individuals from separate beds, on separate sides of town felt the shift in the energy. The lines of power that surround the Earth tightened suddenly, then smoothed themselves out. One was a chestnut haired empath who instantly started to worry, the other a chocolate haired man. The man snorted and rolled over, pulling the covers over his head, and willing the energy flux to be hidden for the remainder of the rebound. The empath decided then was a good time to go to the office to see if anything was up. Wondering if it had anything to do with Robin...or Amon

Upon reaching the office, she was more than a little disgruntled to find no Michael. No hacker to do the slippery work ready and available. Her brows knitted, as her hand reached the phone, the number on speed dial already called. They should never have let him out. She thought to herself, and decided promptly to keep that thought to herself, until it disappeared or was forgotten.

"Hullo?" A sleepy voice responded after the seventh ring.

"Michael, I need you down at the office." She snapped a little more harshly than she meant too. 

"What time is it?"

"Time for work." She was hung up on at this, but her point was taken. He would be here soon, so she grinned to herself and made some coffee. How 'Amon-ish' she thought proudly. She'd always found him devilishly handsome, in that dark, broody sort of way. Eventually, her little infatuation turned into hero worship, and now, she was emulating his manners. Or the lack there of, however you chose to look at it.

Shaking her head, Miho Karasuma shrugged off such old thoughts, and turned her attention to the matter at hand. What was the disturbance? She had felt something like it before, but this carried in waves, not just a sudden burst. Like ripples on a pond, rather than an explosion. The explosion, having had occurred a few minutes before she watched the hunter, Sastre, die. This was like that time, but different. Not as strong, but carried farther, in a radius pattern.

"So what is so damned imp-" Michael was scratching his head, not quite dressed.

"Watch your language!" She folded her arms and eyed him. "I am a lady."

"Could have fooled me." For Amon, he finished to himself as he sat at his computer and begun to crack into secret places. The specifications based on the description of 'Her Lady ships' disturbance. His back hunched, he tried not to take it personally. What would Robin do? He chanted over and over to himself.

"It's only the PTSD, Amon." Robin's sweet voice crooned over his head. "Just the PTSD, everything is just fine." His chest was tight, and he couldn't speak. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Blocked out images of people floating in a strange, greenly glowing liquid took hold of him as the world continued swirling in place. If it was only Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, why then, did it feel so real? Like he was still standing there, watching their bodies floating haplessly in fluid, like pickles. How could he smell the warmed wires, and the burn of sterility. How then could he still see the look on Robin's face through the glass as she could only watch in horror. As they all had.

He still felt held in place by massive stone, and his legs weren't responding. Not even a tingle of pain was emulating from them. He gasped for the air he didn't know he was holding and reached a hand up to grasp the soft voice above him. He felt like he was dieing all over again in the middle of a collapse that had ended months ago. Twisted up on the inside and intensely week, he grabbed for anything that would bring stability back to the cracking in his head.

Fine silk is what his fingers found, and wound themselves in. Fine silk in millions of strands. "It's the PTSD, you are just fine." The voice above him was still crooning. "Just think about breathing." The silk shifted and something warm and soft leaned against his clinched fist. "You are safe, and warm, and far from the place that has you captive." The contact made him gasp, and once again he was letting out the air he didn't know he was holding. This caused him to take another breath, and another...

It didn't take long for the floor to returned to it's standard stability, and he could no longer see sickening green glow. He opened his clinched eyes to find Robin's bright green shining down on him with such caring, and admiration. A look he felt he didn't disserve. His chest heaved again, and the pain returned to his legs, which were finally responding. He rolled in place to find his head cradled in the woman's lap, and her fingers pulling his loose hair from his face.

He put his hands down on the floor to push himself up to his knees, but the floor yielded. Ripples on a still pond is what the floor appeared to him, once again his breath caught in his throat. He hid his face back to the lap, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"That would be your craft. Awakened by the stress." Came her soft voice, which was followed by a low grunt as his grip on her became crushing. She was the only stability he could find, so it was the pit of her stomach that forced his face into, and the small of her back that he dug his fingers into.

Robin continued to pet his head and offer encouragement. Telling him repeatedly that all was well, he would adjust just fine. A sudden well spring of intense self loathing, and anger rose like biel rose in the back of his throat. He forced his head lower into her lap, causing her knees to spread just a little. His arms crossed along her lower spine, stopping her from any form of escape. But the caresses didn't stop, nor did the smooth descant of her gentle croon. However, he could smell the woman's sent, this did wonders at changing the format of the clashing conflicts of his mind. His own biology waking up from the emotional stress that had put him in this position.

"You may notice you hear more, smell more, taste more. Some even see thought forms." She was doing her best to bring out the positive side of his body's betrayal. "You have the Water Element, but which fracture, I wonder." She scarcely more than muttered, trying hard to ignore his breath on her inner thigh. Thoughts that had never occurred to her were beginning to surface. His hands suddenly gripped her hips, and he dragged his face up from her lap, his nose scraping against the length of her stomach. To her, it took an eternity for him to reach her breast then loom above her to look her in the eye. His hands still clutching her slender hips.

In his eyes, she looked like a prism of rainbows. The colors ebbed off of her with a swirling light show, falling haplessly through the floor, and feeding the downstairs neighbors something he'd call hope. Ethereal is the word that came to mind, though the slight form now kneeling beneath him was quite solid, and slightly panting.

"Fracture?" His voice almost cracked in his own ears, he wasn't surprised though, as he found his throat quite dry and tight. At his question she nodded, and dragged him to his feet.

"The craft in humans is broken up into pieces. That is why we have so many problems. Some of the pieces are unstable, and can't be handled alone." She headed back to her room, and found some loose fitting trousers. Suddenly feeling quite bare and exposed. 

"Craft in humans...?" He repeated, mostly to himself. He watched her walk away, and couldn't help but grin at the sight. She really did have a killer figure. At the thought of running his hands, and other parts of his anatomy, over hers,.He used the sofa to pull himself up, sitting to make sure none of the evidence of such thoughts would be visible by the causal on looker. He looked up in surprise as a cup of coffee, slightly steaming was held in front of him.

"Everything has craft of it's own." She began with a slight grin. "My element can see it, just as yours can. Every blade of grass, every tree. All the birds, and fish in the sea." Her eyes went out of focus as she looked out the window. "It is only humankind's fear that causes it to destroy what it doesn't understand."

"Instead of looking for the explanation." He muttered to the coffee. Careful not to stair at her breasts, though from this view point, and that top, not staring was almost impossible. So the rich, dark fluid it was.

"How long would you have stayed where you were? How long would we have been hunters if we had never met?" Her question brought up the self loathing once again. He snarled at his coffee, as if it had offended him.

"You know, in my culture, I was everything you'd want in a man." His snarl didn't ease from his voice.

"I don't know why you speak in past tense." Robin's voice was calm, but almost flat. "In America, you still would be. Right down to the dark and ominous." This did make him feel slightly better. His own culture enjoyed and had great respect for power, and the proper use of it. Not long ago, but certainly before him, said country had shown them what intense power could do. That same power ended a war that would have done far more damage to the world than it already had, if allowed to continue. It was more than a 'sad day' that Japan had become the example. Why had they not just glassed Berlin?  
He sighed into his coffee.

"Any your own?" He asked of the small figure that had joined him on the couch. 

"I do not have one." Robin said softly, slowly. "I was raised to be a nun. Had never thought of anything else. Nor did I get involved in what the world around me was doing." He was looking at her now, suddenly realizing that she was sixteen, and had no concept of how to live her own life. She wasn't a girl, who would go to malls and movies, or 'hang out with her friends'. She wasn't a woman who would go man chasing, or even consider the possibility of...

"What do you want with your life?" He suddenly asked. Not sure he wanted the answer.

"Don't know." She turned her brilliant eyes up to his dark ones with such a smile, like Buddha's. "It has been only two months or so that it has been MINE and no one else's." She shook her head and shrugged, the light streaming brighter from her. "What would you like for breakfast?" She asked as she rose from their shared seating.

You. He thought as he watched her seat twitch to the kitchen. "Eggs and toast...maybe beacon." He sipped his coffee, amazed at how it never got cold when Robin was around. "I like beacon." His last comment drew a giggle from the creature fixing his meal. She really did sound girlish sometimes...no wonder the confusion at the beginning.

Rasputin hovered at the door, listening intently as the young couple conversed. How Japanese. He thought to himself, saying so much without saying anything at all. He chuckled, and left them to their own defenses, and dances. Things were working out quite nicely all on their own. No need to interfere. He made his way a short distance down the hall, and too the right. Inside was the still sleeping lump of his descendant. Lucy's own favorite grandson. 

It had been on board the air plane when the call from the House said that Luccina had died. It was shortly after they landed that Solomon began the bid for ownership of her lands and titles. The accounts in the Caimans responded saying that the heiress (Robin) had not been proven dead, so no transfer was possible at this time. This caused him to chuckle. No other account would allow them full access, just peaks at how much the shrewd woman had amassed over the years. A peak just big enough to make them drool on themselves.

The apartment was sparce, a chair for sitting, and an old TV with rabbit ears for watching. He sighed to himself, after all the centuries, a bachelor was still a bachelor. He tightened his shabby coat around his broad shoulders and breathed deeply. The young man obviously was staying in Robin's home, while himself and her cousin stayed here. One comment of the conditions, though, and true to suit, she'd have this place fixed for kings. The grin broadened as he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Sleep wasn't necessary for the ancient, but a good rest never hurt anybody. 


	6. Hierophant

Hierophant

Solomon, son of David( the beloved of God), was renowned as the King of Jinn. One wave of his hand, and from his ring, the Jinn would answer and do his bidding without question. As a King of Men, he was known for his wisdom, and tactics in battle. As a husband and lover, he honored the beliefs of his wives, by creating a place of worship for all of them within his city walls.

As in Eden, God spoke unto Solomon. Telling him he may have what he wished of the world that lay at the boy's feet, save one. Princess Basheba. The threat being the Line of Kings was to be broken, and splintered for all time should such a marriage take place. Naturally, being human and a man, such a threat only inspired Solomon to go and see what the fuss was about. 

The forbidden marriage must have been a wonder for the world, but also was the destruction that was promised. The last piece of Solomon's reign, The Wailing Wall is the testament of the lesson God did not learn from the 'Eden Incident' when dealing with humans.

An elder priest sat across from the accountant with a more than displeased look on his face. Heavy brows descended over jade green eyes, grown pale with age. The accountant just blinked, as her word on the matter was final, and she had given her it.

"I'm sorry, Father. The heiress has not been proven dead, you have no access to these accounts." She blinked at the priest again, he said nothing, but she knew what he was thinking. The deceased had been his wife, estranged, yes. But still, they were legally married. Unfortunately the pre-nuptial had legal sway. The Father was doomed in this regard, and he had to accept it.

"Has the accounts be accessed?"

"You know I can't answer that." She stood, and offered her hand to the elder man. "I have other clients, you must understand." She did not want to be rude, however, this conversation had taken long enough. The priest sighed, shook the offered hand, and rose to leave. Conveniently leaving out the 'God Bless You' that was his normal parting phrase. Truth be told, Anna and he had never gotten along. So it wasn't surprising that she would be of little help. He had other means of getting what he wanted, they took longer, and involved embarrassing people in tight situations. However they worked, so they he would have to use them.

Anna, the accountant, just sighed and picked up the phone to call her next appointed talk. One she liked very much, actually. Some lawyer by the name of Nagira in Japan, who had been added to the pay roll a few months ago.

"Anna Valsoon, on behalf of the Sena Estates. Mr Nagira was assigned the Lawyer to the Estates...Yes, if I might. Mr Nagira, please find that girl and get her to sign the papers. Thank you." She hung the phone up, and leaned back. Another bright and sunny day in the Caiman. The tide was at a beautiful swell, and her children were screaming with delight as their father showed them the basics at how to fail badly at surfing. Sighing with little resignation, Anna rose from her seat, deciding her work for the day was over. Her children DID need to know the proper balance to catch the most curl, with as little salt sucking as possible anyway.

Sadly, though, Anna never made it to the beach. Her children never got that surfing lesson, and their father would never feel that swell of pride at what fast learners his children were. Just outside the door of her office, Anna had been accosted with chloroform, and awoken sometime latter to the sight of a cold stone room. Bound and gagged to a chair, in perfect view of her husband and children who were in likewise positions. Her heart sank as her husband shook his head, and telepathically told her 'Don't. Come what may. Don't.'

The following hours showed her son and daughter what the inside of their father looked like. Starting with the removal of the skin over EVERY surface of his body. Ending with the removal of his eyes, teeth, tongue, ears and lips. All in all, it took sixteen hours. Still, Anna heeded the last words she heard from her beloved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Juliano turn his head. Through the power of her craft, she could feel his life force still beating away, not strong, but holding on. Faintly, she knew even if she gave the information they wanted, they would not let her family live. They would be tortured and killed anyway. They were only witches after all.

The children were next, all she could do was stair in mute horror as she watched her precious children meet the fate of their father. Anna smiled an evil smile. Inside, Anna was dead, a new being now sat in her place. The Craft had strengthened her resolve to do what was right. Especially after watching what the wrong was capable of. Now, though, with nothing left to live for, SHE was going to do wrong. Very wrong indeed. 

Never had she used her power to harm an individual, never until this scene had begun before her. She took every pain each member of her family had received and held it within herself. She waited like a spider, and she had five flies to her web. Her mate's life force still within her mind's eye, she opened the channel that let him speak to the dear ones in their lives. All would know what happened here. All would know what was about to take place, and someone would do something about it. 

The first advanced, and pulled her bindings off, tossing her to the floor. She didn't fight, she just waited. When each laughingly left their DNA in her body, she opened her craft upon them, using what they left behind as keys to their minds. Her life force entering theirs, she left the pain they had caused the family of four imprinted forever on their minds. As though all of it had happened to them, all at once. She let an evil grin spread itself across her face as their screams echoed and reverberated around the cold stone room. She saw Juliano run in, and stair down at her as she willed herself to follow her children. The open channel of her husband snapped shut on her and she knew only darkness, then nothing.

Around the world this scene played out in the minds of many. Countless of minds sat their bodies upright in bed and breathing hard with pain, anger and immense sadness. One such person was a golden haired green eyed woman, who until that point was draped across her couch with a book across her chest. The book was now laying on the floor, half way across the room, and she was standing, facing the west. Breathing hard, but no sound issuing from her. Slowly she turned to face the south, then the east, and finally looked to the north where her kitchen was positioned. She was safe, in her apartment, with Amon staring at her. A piece of sushi held up to his open mouth, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. 

Her jaw worked but no sound came out. She was trying to tell him the reason for her abrupt awakening, but the realization of what she had been witness too took hold of her mind, and she hit the floor in the fetal position with a loud thud, shaking with sobs that rattled her body. Boots scuffed the clean floor and arms were around her. Amon was calling to her, as other voices entered the room. A deep bass was rumbling to the east, and a low, snide baritone was not helping.

"Relax, Amon." The baritone chimed, "let her get it out of her system, so she doesn't shut down." The arms clinched around her and Amon hissed something.

"Relax, the both of you." The bass murmured. "There, there, child." A hand petted her head lovingly. "I saw it too. I understand, I will tell them both." Amon was ushered to pick her up and lay her in her bed. Which he did without much question.

"What happened?" Amon's voice was sceptical when he returned to Rasputin and Tobias. The latter was helping himself to coffee, and only raised his eyebrows. 

"I don't know, I wasn't sleeping." Tobias said snotily. Rasputin rolled his eyes, and shook his head. Young men were always competing for dominance amongst each other.

"Robin and myself, along with a few others, were held as witnesses to what Solomon is capable of when it doesn't get what it wants." He took the coffee from Tobias, as though it was made for him. The younger man did not complain, though, it appeared to Amon that he very much wanted to. "We saw some friends of this Time tortured to death. Or worse. I do not think they all died, but we will have to see. When the Lady wakes, she will decide the best course of action for the House to take." With that, the old one sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. As if it were Tuesday. Amon thought to himself bitterly, and looked to Robin's closed door. Perhaps being alone was not the best thing for her right this moment.

Before he could make a move in any direction, a knock sounded happily on the door. Tobias, just as happily answered it with a grunt, and stood aside. Eyeing Amon and the new comer in suspicion.

"Hey, little Brother." Nagira lifted a manilla envelope as a gesture of greeting. "Looks like a party or something...where's the lady of the hour?" Amon's eyes darkened and narrowed.

"Lady of the hour indeed." Rasputin murmured from his place on the couch. "Resting, for now. What can he do for you?" He jerked his head in Amon's direction, causing the young man's brows to knit further. 

"Robin's accountant called yesterday, needing Robin to sign these papers." Nagira tossed the envelope onto the table, his instincts picking up on something. Who were these people again? He eyed the young one he didn't know. "I came by last night, but no one was home." All this had caught the attention of the old man on the couch.

"Amon, I do believe we should get her up for this. You would do the honors, won't you?" Rasputin noted the look on Amon's face. "No rush though, I would not want to push her." He turned back to the TV, as if to say it was entirely up to Amon, who did not feel comfortable with that idea. Nodding though, he entered her room, and disappeared behind the door.

"Robin," He began softly as he took hold of her shoulder, and squeezed gently. "Robin, Nagira's here." She likes Nagira, who can always get her to smile. Wouldn't that help what ever pain she's in.? The look she turned on him said no, that one would not be sufficient. Her eyes were full of pain and heart ache, a look that he understood all too well. That was the look he carried after he'd lost his mother. Robin had lost family, and she had shared in their suffering.

"Robin, its important," That wasn't what he meant, but he picked her up and rocked her against his chest. "Your accountant-"

"But Anna's dead." She choked on her tears as she clung to him.

"Would you like me to tell Nagira to go, and leave the papers?"

"No." That was a whisper and a sniffle and she clung tighter for a moment, then climbed out of bed. She clung to Amon's arm as he lead her from the room. The hulking tower of him seemed to block out the memories of the terror that woke her from her nap.

The look Nagira gave her was anything but understanding. He cast an accusing look at Amon, as if, somehow, the state Robin apparently was in was his fault. This did nothing for Amon's mood as he stared his brother down.

"Mrs Valsoon needed you to sign these." Nagira opened the package and sorted the papers out. "Here, here and here." He said nonchalantly. Eying Robin, then her company. She did as requested, after she read through things carefully, and asked the questions she could think of. Which weren't many, not being of the legal mind...or any mind at all at the present.

"Well, business is done, what say we go to dinner?" Nagira looked around at the gloomy faces, not sure he really wanted to spend an evening with a group of grumps, but for Robin's sake? The young woman stared down at her table, that gave a half assed smile up to Amon. Who blinked down at her as if to say, what ever you want. She turned that same smile up to Nagira and nodded. Tobias groaned, Rasputin chuckled, Nagira looked confused, and Amon scowled went a little deeper.

Juliano sighed heavily for the umpteenth time this past week. Not only had he lost the best of his embarrassing people, due to the miss calculations of the amount of craft in one family, but the heiress they were trying to keep quiet had resurfaced.. Not only did she claim her estates, now making it impossible for Solomon to collect, at least for a while anyway. But she gained more footing than Luccina had ever accomplished. Something in the way Anna had taken out the torturers left a mark that could not be washed clean. 

.The bodies of the broken four had been claimed by the heiress, and sent to Japan. Her new homestead, it seemed. Jack and Anna Valsoon's bodies had not been killed as they should have been, so the utmost care was takin in their movement. The two children were sent to the coroners in some hospital to be looked over by someone the heiress trusted.

All in all, he was implicated, and he didn't like it. Juliano had reasons for all he did, and it was a shame his only living grandchildren didn't trust him. His grandson should know better, he thought to himself. Robin should know better than stand against Solomon. 

"A witch is a witch, and a witch must be hunted." Her sweet voice was laced with something he'd never heard in her before. "That is fine, but now we must define the word 'witch'."

"A witch is someone with great power, who abuses that power to get what they want..." He'd stopped there, she had that look in her eyes. The look that seemed to say 'before you accuse anyone, take a look at yourself'. The very same look her mother had given him countless of times. Juliano knelt before the alter he did not truly belive in, he really should have killed Robin at birth, he thought to himself. He could not fight her then, he would be unable latter. He sighed again, best let someone else take care of them both. Of them all. Juliano's eyes tightened in mock prayer as he could not grasp the reality of what she had said that last conversation they'd had. Even then, she saw more clearly than an old man of so many years. Perhaps he really was going to hell. He thought for just a moment before his mind turned a blind eye, and he continued to plot. Every man has his master, and every dog gets beaten for what wrong the master does. Juliano grinned in his knowing, but never turned his mind to prayer. 


	7. Lovers

Lovers

Duality

n 1: being twofold; a classification into two opposed parts or subclasses; "the dichotomy between eastern and western culture" syn: dichotomy 2: (physics) the property of matter and electromagnetic radiation that is characterized by the fact that some properties can be explained best by wave theory and others by particle theory syn: wave-particle duality 3: (geometry) the interchangeability of the roles of points and planes in the theorems of projective geometry

The Yin and Yang, the balance that the Universe teeters on. The fine wire that divides love and hate. The power of magnetic forces that which governs our lives. Where do we fall in the opposing forces that holds the World on It's axis? Hagalaz, by the will or force of Nature, our Mother Earth, balance may be found and maintained. 

The creature that was once called Anna stood at the glass of the Intensive Care visitor's window. Half staring at the being on the other side, half at her own reflection. Ebony hair had turned white as snow, happy sparkling eyes turned devoid of humor, or any emotion at all. She now looked ageless, timeless, made of marble. She had lived, not by her own will, but the will of the powers that flowed through her. She could not be killed for the rage that had consumed her previous soul. Same with the man on the other side of the glass. The Craft, power that came from the center of the Earth, powers that came from the stars themselves, had chosen that this pair lived. 

A grimace creased her face, still no emotion entered her pail blue eyes. She would have to chose a new name, as would the man-being before her. Their new life would start as soon as he wakened. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she would remember some of her humanity when he stood beside her again. The grimace disappated, then again, perhaps not.

Her eyes shifted to the shadowy reflections behind her. Bright emerald eyes framed by gilded hair, and a dark shadow beside her. Such a strange pair, one with the compassion to encompass the world, one with a severe case of self loathing. A heavy sigh escaped the creatures lips as she turned her attention back to her own reflection. Frozen was all she could think of herself. From her snowy hair to the ice blue of her eyes, right to the milk of her skin. The grimace returned as she turned to the pair waiting for her to speak. Her decision would be final, but to finalize it, she must speak.

"Anna is dead and gone. I am Frost." Her voice, which was once musical was now a cold croak. She reached her empathic mind out to the man in the ICU, feeling for any coherent thought. 'Taxidermy' was the telepathic response. Just one word, but it did fit. Where his tanned skin had been was now pig's skin, spiraling red lined from the stitches were etched across his body, marring it forever.

"Taxidermy is what he will be called." She announced to her employer and good friend. The pail blonde simply nodded. Turning back to the window, she eyed the specimen within. No ears, the replacement eyes had turned to coal as soon as they had been placed in his head. Taxidermy was fitting, now he was made from many animals, including people. Never to speak again, except through his craft. Never to take a solid meal again. "Go now to your muorg, then to what ever you think is best, Lady." Frost noticed the raised eyebrows, the worried look the young woman was giving her. "I have no business with the dead."

With a slight push, Robin edged Amon out of the room, and toward the coroners office. Still shaking from lack of sleep and worry for her life long friends. She would deal with the bodies, and the paper work, if so was their wish. She clung to Amon's arm all the way down to the recesses of the hospital, grateful for the silent support of man beside her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered why he was there, why he wasn't Hunting all of them. Certainly with the transformation of her oldest friends. But such thoughts were pushed aside, as all she wanted was to feel the presence of someone beside her.

Amon stared at Kosaka blankly as the older man read the files he'd brought from the hospital. He knew the others where just outside the door, waiting to hear the out come of their stony leader's return. The older man behind the desk that once held Ziazen's smug presence placed the folders down and put his head in his hands.

"First the schnanaganz with the Factory, and now this?" Shaking his head he looked up to Amon, who showed no expression. "This is disgusting. I can't believe Men of the Church were involved in this!" There was silence for a moment as he looked back down at the folders before him. "I don't know what to do about this." He shook his head and turned his chair away. "Do you have options for me?"

"Robin is turning her House against Solomon." Amon began, a slight bit of pride entered his voice. "You can join us, or suffer the fate that Solomon will." This caught the attention of the elder.

"What is their fate, exactly?" He inquired.

"Solomon has been responsible for a holocaust that has been going on for over a thousand years. This," he pointed to the files on the desk, "is not the first, and won't be the last. If something isn't done. They will be exposed to the world. Eventually, they will be labeled worse than the Nazis." A shadow of a smirk crossed his handsome face. "I doubt very much anyone here wants to be labeled as such."

"You are right." Kosaka nodded his agreement. "This department will cut ties with Solomon. But what will we do? How will we be of service"  
"We will continue to be the police force for the Witches of the community. Robin's Family is all but moved here, and more are coming. We will not be short handed, or have a lack of support." With Kosaka's nod, Amon whirled out the door, and headed down toward the others. To his surprise, only Michael was standing by the door, listening for tidbits of information on the conversation within.

"So Robin's some sort of High Lady? Like a Coven Leader?" He questioned Amon's retreating back.

"Why don't you go ask her? She's at Harry's." Was all the answer the youth got. Finally, thought said youth, the sane one has returned to the scene. The boy raced toward the nearest exit, not wanting to miss another moment with his first real friend since the Factory had picked him up.

Amon listened to the hastily retreating shoes, thinking to himself that he should keep an eye on that one. Just in case the lad was thinking of userping HIS role in Robin's life. Not for a second did the thought cross his head that the boy in question really only wanted a friendly face, and a willing smile to listen to him ramble about the things he'd seen. And to listen to someone else's open tails of the world away from the one he knew.

As was promised, Michael found Robin in Harry's, sipping espresso, and re-canting her recent 'adventures'(as she put it). She turned and smiled at him, and how his heart melted. He raced to a seat beside her at the bar, and ordered an espresso for himself. Listening in as she finished her tail of the newly created Frost and Taxidermy. He shook his head and sighed with Harry.

"So Frost and Taxidermy are coming to the STN-J?" He questioned.

"Yes, as well as some others." She responded quietly.

"You are not?" Harry softly asked.

"No. I must tend to the needs of my House. Amon will be the liason between the two." Harry and Michael simply nodded, this was the answer they expected.

"What do they do?" Michael looked at Robin's profile.

"Taxidermy is a researcher, Frost is an accountant. Both are brilliant and will be a benefit for everybody." Was her soft response.

"The STN-J has a new pay roller. And will suffer a name change." A dark, flat voice erupted behind them. Amon was not happy with the way Michael was looking at the young woman beside him. Then again, he never has been. The boy had warmed to her too quickly, and she always seemed much more relaxed in his pressanse. This he would have to watch all the more carefully now. The footsteps behind the tall stalker alerted him to incoming of the rest of the old team.

As everyone took their places in the quiet restaurant, Harry grinned. Once again, his place was the refuge of the entire team. With a green eyed Italian woman at their lead. A woman who looked, and acted so much like the mother she never knew. Only Maria did not have the kindness that oozed out of Robin. She had been much more forceful in her nature. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Maria had grown up in Italy, not showing up here at the tender age of fifteen. He watched everyone carefully as they spoke amongst one another. Watching for the signs of jealousy that could spell doom for this small band of cast-a-ways.

"When will the others get here Robin?" Michael looked to the woman beside him with excitement. "Will Lenore be one of them?" The Internet buddy that she had put him in touch with a while back had been on his mind since her telling her of the supposed death of her good friend. Robin simply nodded.

"I believe that she and her brother are on their way now." Robin responded brightly. Amon stuffed a sigh of relief, maybe the boy will keep his hands biusy with someone else, then and off Robin. As if sensing Amon's thoughts, Miho turned to look at him questioningly. She wasn't certain if she liked the idea of being over run by a bunch of juvinial High Powers running around. Amon pretended not to notice her gaze.

As on cue, heavy foot falls pounded into the quiet room. All turned to rest their gazes on a modern giant with strawberry hair and neatly kempt beard. A wide grin spread itself across his face as he paced forward toward the small green eyed woman. Without a word he picked her up and crushed her too him, then set her back down in the spot she'd last occupied.

"Cameron, this is Michael, Amon, Dojima, Karasuma, Sakaki, and Master Harry. Everyone, this is Cameron McCGee." Robin announced brightly. The giant nodded to everyone and clasped Michael's shoulder in a most friendly manner. 

"Lenore is setting up shop. But she is most anxious to meet you, lad." He said with a widening of a grin. Michael's eyes got bigger, and a true smile smeared across his face. The hand on his shoulder edged him off his seat, so he waved to everyone, and nearly ran out the door, earning a solid, loud laugh from the giant's barrel chest. Said giant nodded again to everyone, and followed the small boy out the door.

"What was all that about?" Dojima leaned with a snooping sort of look toward Robin.

"All what about?" Robin looked side long at the other woman.

"You know, that giant, and Michael tripping all over himself...and what is this 'shop' thing anyway."

"Lenore is a para-psychic investigator who has the leading edges of technology to help with her field. Michael and she have been in communication for some time now. Guess they hit it off quiet nicely." She said with a small smile. Thinking to herself once again at what a handsome couple they would be if ever the time came for that.

"What does a para-psychic investigator do, anyway?" Now Sakaki's attention was no longer on his quiet conversation with Amon, but what the girls were talking about. Which, generally speaking, was more interesting than anything the older man had to say anyway.

"Para-psychics use their innate abilities to decifer crime scenes, and use particular tools: such as cameras with special lenses, electromagnetic meters, and what not. To bring hard evidence for courts to use in 'phenomenom abuse' cases."

"But none of those things truly work." Amon's attention was now on Robin completely.

"Not mainstream, no. But spend forty years after World War Two with the Russians, then another decade or so on perfecting their systems. Lenore is the first to get the gadgets to work right." There was a moment of pause. "Every now and again, she finds apprintesses. But not often. Some find her hard to get along with."

"How old is she? Forty plus?" Miho now was in complete indignation.

"Don't know for certain, but she does have memories of the first World War. Over time the memories start slipping." Robin shrugged and went back to her espresso.

-

Michael had been waiting for this moment all his life it seemed. Since Robin had put him in touch with this woman, all he'd wanted was to meet her face to face. She had been such a help with so many hunts, and great person to talk to when even Robin had gone to bed. Now he was standing outside the door that sepperated them. The thin wood that once opened could never be shut again. Lenore. The name meant more to him than his caller, and he was afraid to see the person that it belonged to. He knew she was old, so he prepared himself for the sight of an aged woman, and slowly opened the door.

As he stepped in, he took in all the gadgets and whatcha-ma-hoos that cluttered the space around him. In the far corner, a frail, almost gaunt figure was stooped over a box. The figures hair was long and ragged, the same color as Robin's, he thought to himself. When she turned to take in the sight of him in her doorway, her grayed amber eyes locked with his. "Hello, you must be Michael." Her voice was a familiar rasping croak, that caused Michael to gasp.

"Lenore?" The boy stepped forward slowly, unbelieving. This gaunt figure looked twelve, not a woman well into her eighties. The figure stood, and grimmiced. 

"I get this a lot." Now she smiled, and moved forward to wrap her arms around him. "Michael, I have wanted to meet you for so long...I did expect an older gentleman though. So surprise to us both?" She looked up into his eyes with a warmth and loving kindness that melted him faster than Robin's gaze.

"Hoo-ray for me then!" Slipped out of him as his own arms found their way around her. I guess Internet dating works once in a while, then. He thought to himself.

Cameron, who had been listening on the other side of the door grinned to himself, then headed back down to the restaurant that Robin and her small band of outlaws had gathered. Hoping in a way, that he too would have a happy ending tonight. But the way that dark one was looking at Robin, and the dark scowl he got for hugging his long time friend and cohort was disconcerting. Let's see how long that lasts when Lenore starts whispering into Robin's ear again. He thought to himself as he neared the place. Once again the grin fashioned itself across his face. Maybe there was hope for him yet. If not, he could always kill the interloper...as long as the girl wasn't attached to that 'Amon' character. A werewolf had his pride, but a Lady's choice came first and foremost. 'I am the assassin that cannot be hunted. I am the stalker in the dark that cannot be stopped. I am the terror that cannot be over come. I will protect the Lady, the Queen of Heaven.' The age old chant of the Shifters Clan sprang to mind as once more his eyes took in the sight of the team's tactical leader, slumped in a dark corner. Doing his best to look like another piece of the wall. Cameron shook his head again, and took Michael's abandoned seat. Yes, he would have to wait for Lenore to talk some sense into this girl. 


	8. Chariot

Chariot

The Golden Cart of Gods, drawn by the six Unicorns of Fire. Truth, Justice, Beauty, Will, Courage and Faith. Coming from the Sun to carry Heros home to their place that the Table of Mirth. They stamped across the starry sky looking for lost souls who would redeem themselves, or simply need that one flash of light that they may find peace within. 

Sometimes, though, the Unicorns are on the warpath against those who would do great harm. Upon those, let a warning be herd. No darkness can swallow the Unicorn's Light. No lie can stand strong where they tred.

Raidho: The rune of Evolution, of Rhythem, and the dance of life. Seeing a larger perspective. Seeing the right move for you to make and deciding upon it.

Kenaz: The rune of Revelation. The rune of Fire, harnessed power, fire of transformation and regeneration. Power to create your own reality, the power of light.

Amon sat listening to the tide exhale against the sand. In each movement of the water, he swore he could hear voices carried across the tide. For months he'd sat here, listening, waiting. Every evening past sun down he'd come here to think. His mother had been one of thousands whose bone fragments had been found in the incinerators. It was a jagged pill to swallow, to be woken one morning to the news that he'd been assisting the murderers of his own mother. Days later, he'd received another call, informing him that his father had been found there as well. Since then, he could not face those at Ravens Flat. He could barely look Robin in the face for the weeks that followed.

Robin. The only one who never judged him, even when he'd been so heartless to her. He'd judged her, he'd tried to fit her into the small box of reality that she simply could not fit in. Then she blew it to pieces entirely. Only to stand patiently beside him, holding his hand. Still she had not judged him, even after learning about the truth of the Factory, about his parents. Seemingly to love him, even when he couldn't. 

"You can't avoid them forever." A voice murmured from nowhere. His back snapped straight as he looked for the speaker. "I'm in here, human." Came the voice again seemingly from the waves itself. "You seem familiar, though, we've never spoken before..." Amon could not respond, he suddenly felt quite insane, listening to a talking wave. He thought he heard the voice sigh.

"Who are you?" He whispered, not wanting anyone to over hear him.

"Me? The question is who are you? You don't seem to know that." This was most puzzling to the dark, brooding shadow of a man. Sitting in the cold, on a deserted beach, talking to a wave...Did he truly know who he was?

"I thought I did." Slipped out of him in an honesty that only Robin seemed to be able to spur him into. Maybe she was rubbing off onto him.

"Thinking and knowing are two very different things." The voice replied. "I can't tell you who I am, until you know who you are. So lets start from the beginning. What do you KNOW?"

"I know that I'm talking to a talking wave." Suddenly suspicious of his environment, he eyed the moving coastline. "Besides, what does it matter if I don't know who I am? That should hold no relevance on who you are."

"No. You are talking to someone WITHIN the wave. But good try. Really, it makes all the difference in the world, as you can't love anyone, unless you love yourself. So start from the beginning." Most unhelpful Someone Within the Wave, Amon thought privately. None the less, he sat and thought. From the beginning what did he know. Long silence passed, and moments wained on. Memories long forgotten began to resurface.

"I once thought that being a Seed was not such a bad life." He spoke to the waiting voice.

"That's a good start. What changed your mind?"

"My mother woke as a Witch in front of me...I couldn't reach her after that."

"When she woke, what was your reaction?" Amon thought hard on this one. It took awhile, but the answer came. A sudden guilt washed over him. Fear. He had been afraid, he had retreated. Begged her to leave him be. He remembered the look in her eyes, the sadness, and compliance.

"I was right, the life of a Seed is much worse than that of a Witch." He looked to his left, the guilt intensifying.

"Yes, and no." The voice softened. "A Seed, knowing the love of a devoted family will be turned on by that family and the society around them. No matter what they have done in the past, or how the Power manifests itself. The Witch will only know persecution. In this way, the Witch is never lied to." Amon cringed, the image of an eight year old boy that he'd once hunted with Robin coming to mind. Yes, that one was...what was the term Robin likes to use? A Self Fulfilling Prophecy.

"What do I do?" He asked, more of himself than of the Voice.

"We aren't done finding out who you are. When we figure that out, you will know the answer to that." The voice chimed almost happily, almost laughing. "Now we know you've been caught up in the cycles of Self Prophecy, and we know where it began, what else is lurking in the beginning?" Again, Amon lapsed into silence. 

"Ziazan talked a good talk, and his daughter wanted me. I thought I would be accepted." He was looking at the sand now. 

"You would have been, if you kept pretending to be what they wanted."

"A tool. Something to be used and thrown away. Ziazan would not have let me marry his daughter...not have kids."

"Is this a bad thing? Did you want to marry her, have children with her? Strange how that relationship ended after you were faced with true acceptance." Amon's back straightened. That was true. A few weeks with Robin and the promise of life with Touko didn't seem as sweet. The words that came from Ziazan had suddenly seemed hallow, and frail. He leaned his head on his knees and closed his eyes. The water breathed deeply, as if sighing in his pain. "What else did you lie to yourself about?"

The question did not sound as bitter as the words let on. They were a truth that he could no longer hide from. The lies he'd built around himself were now in pieces at his feet, and he felt helpless and small. "Kate wasn't selling us out, she wasn't loosing it. She was trying to tell people what was going on in the Factory. She was trying to tell the truth, and I wasn't listening." Despite all the speeches he'd made about accepting the truth, he always fought against it. Tooth and nail, a part of him fought it still.

"What next?"

"My craft woke up a while ago. But I managed to suppress it. It wasn't until the Factory collapsed, and the Orbo burned out that I had to face it."

"And what is your craft, exactly?"

"Robin said it's in the element of water."

"But what is it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then, lets start by talking about the Element itself." The voice was chipper, and seemed excited. "The Element of Life and Death, the land of Psychics, and renewal. There is no healer, or empath, or telepath that does not call to Water's direction, the West. Water is the life blood of the Earth. Strange how the Earth is seventy percent water, and so is every living body upon her, don't you think? Even the trees."

"It only makes sense." He looked out over the ocean, thinking of the Earth suddenly as a living being for the first time. Then realized, quite suddenly, that this was the first time he'd really thought about the planet in general. The guilty feeling welled back up from it's recesses.

"Is that comfortable? That feeling? You humans seem to like it a lot. You stay there most of the time."

"No. Not comfortable at all, I just can't seem to get away from it."

"It must be because you are young. You as in, you humans as a species." There was a pause. "Did you know that your species is the youngest on the planet? By quite a few million years?"

"No...Are we still evolving?"

"Most everything is, dear. So far sharks, crocodiles and tortoises are the only ones who are comfortable in their skins. Well, most insects too, but they aren't good conversationalist. They talk too fast for me to catch."

"Why is that?"

"The life span thing. Time is different for every species. Depending on how long you live will determine how you view time. How you view time will determine how you speak." 

"That is interesting." Amon laid back against the sand and starred up at the starry sky, suddenly wondering how Robin viewed time. How did he view time, the thought struck him. Once again, something that he normally didn't think about flooded his thoughts.

"Who are you?" The voice from the waves asked again.

"I am Amon, who calls to the West." Was the answer that answered itself. "Who are you?"

"I am the Champion of the West that answers when you call."

Robin sat on her couch, staring at the blank TV screen. Hugging the pillow to her chest, she waited for her roommate to return from the great dark where ever. She'd cried for the seeming loss of her friend for months now. Eight in total. Still she waited, hoping that one day he would return from his hiding and be the person she knew. She nearly jumped from her skin when the door opened to reveal Amon, with what looked like a grin on his face.

His gaze landed on her for the first time in this long trial, and the grin disappeared. Within a moment she was no longer sitting on the couch, but held up close, his scent making her head spin. The strength and warm of his presence nearly making her cry.

"I'm sorry, Robin." He murmured in her ear. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I've come to terms with life, and the universe." He set her back and offered her a gentle look, one that she drank in and melted into. Her pained expression dissipated to be replaced by a joyous smile. "We have a lot of work to do, and I'm through shirking my duties."

Tears of joy slipped from her eyes as she thrust her face back into his chest. "I'm glad. I have missed you greatly." She murmured against him, reveling in the feeling of his closeness, his strong arms around her. She clung to him there for as long as she could, until, with a sigh, he pick her up and carried her to the bed they both slept in. There she curled around him, and he her. Finally, she was warm. Safe in a cocoon of affection, and in her groggy mind, thoughts that did not befit a nun began to fill her sleepy head. 'Good thing I've given up on being a nun...the habit didn't ever fit right anyway.' Was her last thought as Amon's deep breathing lead her to her own, true rest.

"The evidence speaks for itself. All things check out." The judge looked at her comrades with a tired expression. "We will begin to notify the governments of the infractions." She sighed heavily. "I do hate it when the Americans are right. They like to rub things in a bit." The other judges on the bench nodded. A tittering went up from the American side of the room, and the judges on the bench sighed in unison. "We will call all of you when the preliminary hearing begins, please stay within city limits. You are dismissed."

Karasuma sighed and looked to her travel mate to move. Cameron looked up at her with a sideways grin, and rose to tower over the small woman. She slipped past him without a word, shaking her head as she went. How she got landed with this monstrosity of a man, she didn't know. He barely fit through any door, and no matter how he tried, his voice boomed from wall to wall when he spoke. He was good to look at though, and she never feared any passerby. Not with the moving wall of a man always just behind her.

Outside the door of The Hague's court house, the band of craft users that Robin had called now gathered. "That went well." One of them said, Merga, Miho thought her name was. 

"How about a drink, then." Cameron stated as he made his way to the tavern across the street. Once again, Miho sighed. 'Some guardian.' She thought. Everyone nodded, and followed after.

"Why did you come with me?" She asked the giant after a pint had found it's way down her throat.

"Robin." Was the only answer she got. So far, the man had spoke so little with her that she'd become annoyed. With the alcohol in her system, she decided to push it.

"You do what ever she says, then?"

"Sure. She doesn't ask much of me, so why not?"

"Why did she ask this of you?"

"She said that you prefer life without incident, could I please look after you, and take care of anything that might come up to disturb you." He eyed her. "Why are you so suspicious of her anyway? She's the only one of your lot that doesn't hide anything. As far as I can tell, she's the only one whose really honest about things." This struck Miho in a hard way.

"Are you implying that I'm not honest?"

"I imply nothing, I am merely stating fact."

"This is going too smoothly." A new voice interrupted. "Cameron, what do you think, do we have a chance at getting The Hague to charge Solomon for War Crimes Against Humanity?" Fryda, the pail Norse woman was at their table now, neatly ignoring Miho.

"That will be seen in short time, I think." Was his answer.

"How is Robin doing?"

"Pining over some bloke with a serious case of self loathing." This time, Cameron sat back with his arms crossed.

"I told you this before, now heed it. Robin is not for you, be the brother she thinks you are."

"I will be what ever she has need of. But if this guy hurts her, he'll know the sharp side of my teeth." This made Miho cringe, she'd seen his transformation once, and fervently hoped never to again.

"You companion seems a little squeamish, is she alright?"

"Why don't you ask her? She's right here."

"I don't talk to back water torture assister."

"Robin calls her friend, so a friend she must be. Besides, Miho didn't know what was going on in there anyway."

"The whole scenario was suspicious. We all knew something bad was up, why didn't they."

"We all were on the outside looking in. Their lives where threatened, and they wanted to live. Give them some slack. The important thing is she is here now, so back off Fryda." A moment of pause, " need I remind you of the 'Siberian Incident'?" With that, the pail woman snorted and stormed off. "Pay her no heed, Miho-chan. She's just a bitch in heat...all the time." Miho blushed and looked away, not wanting to talk anymore, but a thought struck her.

"What is this 'Siberian Incident'?" She asked quietly.

"Nasty business. Solomon wanted to see what it was like to create a bunch of zombies, and it got out of hand." He eyed her for a moment. "If you plant your dead, there are certain rites that can call the corpses back, no matter the state of decay. A necromancer can control them, but only if they are the summoner. Normal humans only create a mess that has to be cleaned up by fires as hot as the sun...Do you know anyone else whose fires burn that hot on command?" Cameron grinned as Miho's eyes widened at her drink. "Didn't think so." With that the conversation was over, and Cameron finally decided he liked the low end empath. She was only oblivious to how things actually were because she'd no contact with the 'real world' until Robin showed up. 'Must be a nasty shock.' He mused to himself, and grinned at his own drink. 'Maybe loosing to the dark stalker of a guy wasn't so bad after all.' Came the next thought to cross his weary mind. "Come now, me bonny lass, time to tuck you in." He rose and ignored the blush that crept prettily across her face.

He followed her to their suit, and check every room and exit before allowing her to begin her nightly rituals. After the bedroom door was shut, he pulled the lines of power into himself and took the form of the half man, half wolf, and curled on the floor by said door. There he would rely on the senses that are so much sharper than any humans, and half dozing he stayed ever vigilant of his charges breathing and movements in the room beyond. Ready for anything, even biting humans, something that wasn't appealing in the least, as humans taste really nasty.

She couldn't sleep out right, so Miho thought over the conversation in the tavern. 'So that is why Robin's eyes were so wide. She'd seen true terror, the like that I can hardly imagine.' She thought to herself as she rolled over in her bed to look out the window. 'Then to walk into the factory, to find what she did.' Closing her eyes, she decided to listen to the small girl-woman a little closer, and to ask questions more, rather than make accusatory assumptions toward her actions. 'Necromancer exist then...well, I shouldn't be surprised. I know a Sphinx and a werewolf personally.' She rolled over again and sighed. The werewolf in question was on the other side of the door, and she knew what form he was in. Strangely, though, she was relieved, and felt the muscles in her back relaxing. For the first time in her life she was safe. Truly safe. These past months had changed her life forever, and somewhere deep with in her, she wished it this stay would never end. She didn't want to loose this comfort, right now, she could pretend he'd sleep outside her door forever. This thought sent her to sleep, as she dreamed of a safety that was foreign to any other human on the planet. 


	9. Justice

Sorry for the crppy format! Had to do a rebuild and haven't fixed all the buggs. Anyway, hope it's to your liking!

Loves,

Moonsister

Justice

There is none that is harmed that does not seek justice in some

way. Whether it be through bloodshed, or be through personal

insight. No matter the path you take to find it, true justice

can never be attained, what is done is done, and cannot be

undone. There is no way to cleanse the soul of the wounding.

One can only learn to heal, and continue on the path.

To say 'justice done' is to say that you have found the strength

to move onward from the hurt. Let such a path be of your own

internal balance, not continuing the cycle of suffering unto

another. So Athena once spoke to her people:

Be aware always of consequence of action. Know always the

freedom of letting go.

Muffled voices in the room beyond woke Taxidermy with a slow

lull. Silently rising, he shrugged into the long black hooded

cloak that had become his signature clothing. Gathering the

paperwork from the night before, he moved as if he were a cloud of smoke

into the next room. It was Frost's shining countenance that

greeted him upon his approach. 'The work was done late, but is

of still use.' He thought to his love. She nodded and gave the

message to the rest of the crew.

A Hunt was called on a singular individual, a leader of a local

gang. This one was going to be tough, so that no witch would

have to be left behnd in the Flat. "It is for your own safety."

Lenore spoke, looking at Sakaki, who 'Ah-Maned' and flopped down

at his desk.

"I hardly see any action anymore." He mumbled while looking at his computer monitor.

"Don't feel bad, I've never seen that kind of action." Michael

said, grinning at his computer. From her perch on Michael's

desk, Lenore also grinned. Inspiring a groan from Doujima, who

immediately changed the subject.

"So where is this guy, and how will we get him?" She inquired,

looking at Taxidermy.

'Whose this WE, dear. This is a party you are not invited to.

We will call upon The Lady, and she will assemble the team from

there. You have no protection, you will stay here.' Frost's voice was cold, but not unkind.

"Can't I just go home then?" Doujima asked as she rolled her eyes.

"We tried that once, and you almost botched the mission with

intruding." Lenore hissed at her. Over the past months,

Doujima began to swear that the Sphinx didn't like her much.

But that mission in question had sent Lenore home with a

shredded wing, so the Seed didn't blame her.

"How soon can The Lady get here, time is of the essence."

Tobias murmured from his sprawl on the couch.

"I don't think we need bother her." A familiar, and much missed

voice interrupted. All eyes turned to see Amon sauntering in

from the elevator. Lenore extended the folders in his

direction, as Frost and Taxidermy took their leave. "How are

they doing?" He asked the small blonde, as though he truly

cared.

"Not bad," she replied nonchalantly, "considering."

Amon nodded with a grimace of concern, and flipped through the

files. "Tobias, you have the strongest wards."

"Second only to the Lady Herself." Came the dry voice from the

couch.

"I didn't know that Robin could do wards." Doujima whispered

to Michael.

"You have never been good at paying attention, have you. That's

how Miho survived the building falling on her." Tobias

whispered back rolling his eyes. Amon cleared his throat.

"We'll attack at nightfall, best eyesight for Lenore." He

continued. "You will be perimeter watch. I want to keep this

in a four block span. Frost and myself will be the only ones in

contact with the perpetrator."

"Magic Hour." Lenore responded with a grin.

"Why does he get to go on this hunt when the rest of us don't?"

Sakaki whined.

"I'm not a Seed anymore, Sakaki." Amon announced, to those who

knew him, the matter of fact way that he said this stunned them.

For everyone else, it was tuesday.

"There's our little hunter!" All except Lenore that is. "All

grown up with power of his own." Amon rolled his eyes.

"We don't have more than eight hours, so everyone get ready.

This should be a fight. I'll inform Robin of the situation, and

she will be on the ready, and stand by. Get to it folks." With

that he was out the door and headed up stairs to the

administrator's office. There he planted the files on his desk

and informed him of the movements that are being taken. From

there, he headed back home to the Lady.

"Are you sure you don't want me in involved?" She asked with a

strange air to her voice.

"Only if we have a problem. I would feel better if you stood

with Tobias as this was going down. Just as a safety precaution."

He responded, watching her make them lunch.

"Oh, alright." She poured the coffee, and brought the food

stuffs to the table.

"After the hunt, let us go out to dinner tonight. Someplace

special." He eyed her for a moment. "Not Harry's."

"I have nothing to wear." She answered smoothly not looking up

at him. He reached across the table and lifted her chin.

"I'm sure Doujima will be happy to take you to find something."

He gazed in her eyes with the adoring he felt for her, and was

gratified to see her blush.

"That would be lovely, us going out to dinner." She spoke as

she nodded into his hand. By the end of lunch, Robin was still

blushing as she washed the dishes. Listening to Amon on the

phone with Doujima, she couldn't get the look he gave her out of

her mind. What does it mean when a man gives a woman that look?

She wondered to herself, it filled her with such a warm feeling

and sent butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.

When Doujima arrived, Amon excused himself with a kiss on

Robin's forehead, and said something about women and shopping.

Sundown, and powerful wings brushed threw rainy skies, sending

the drops in an array of new directions. Threw the eyes of the

craft, Lenore could see Tobias's wards holding a four block span

hostage. No Witch without the Lady's seal could pass threw it.

The center block housed the accused in some airy tea house. The

Sphinx could see the clear blue aura of Amon, and the sharded,

spiky icy one of Frost standing outside the building. Amon was

known for his straight forward strategies, the bust in and

shot 'em ups indicative of the old American west. No flare, no

panache... Too bad, she thought to herself. From her vantage

point of a thousand feet, she could clearly see the pulsating

rainbow aura of Robin as it bathed all that was around in a soft

warming glow. Through it, Tobias looked golden, though he was

normally a deep green. Only in her animal form did she poses

telepathy, so she sent her images to her life's mate. Michael

responded with awe in his heart. The pitch color of the target

entered the scene, and all the players on the field began to

move. She angled one wing to drift to the top of the building

and await the moment should she need to strike.

"Halt in the name of our Queen." Amon stated without

hesitation. Frost raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"What queen!" The man spat at him. "There is no one above me!

I am the strongest there is!" An off kilter blast rushed past

Amon's feet, causing him to flip slightly, and fling his arms

out to catch himself. A glance to his right found Frost

blocking blows with graceful ease. Reaching with his spirit, he

asked the man's blood to begin to fill his lungs. Eager to

please, it did, causing the man to start to choke. He dropped to

the ground, and Amon retracted the order. Pleased with itself,

the man's blood went back about it's business. As soon as he

hit the ground, Frost was on him, shutting all emotional

responses down. Becoming mindless, the man rose and followed

without question.

"That proved him wrong." Amon said with only the slightest of

humor in his voice. "I think that was the smoothest hunt Japan

has ever seen."

"It's amazing what can be accomplished when you have a fully

operating team. With the seeds otherwise entertained, it is a

lot easier." Frost's voice was sly yet unassuming.

"Get him to Taxidermy." Amon told Tobias and Frost as he

extended his hand to Robin, blushing, she kissed her cousin's

cheek as she allowed herself to be lead away by Amon.

"At least he's learning his place now." Tobias said with a

shrug. "Have you heard from your brother, Lenore?" He asked

the feathered beast as she landed on the truck that they

stuffing the zombie-like human into.

"All I understood was things are going Miho's way, and he's

ready to hump the couch." She ruffled her feathers in

amusement. Frost chuckled.

"when are you going to find yourself a mate?" Frost asked the

chocolate haired man.

"When I find myself a sweet man who needs a strong shoulder to

lean on... in this city, no time soon." He responded with more

than a little disappointment in his voice.

"You look beautiful tonight, Robin." Amon murmured softly as

they sat in the fine restaurant. She was robed in shimmering

violet, the style of which reminded him of ancient Greece.

Robin was so busy blushing she could hardly speak, so she

dropped her eyes and murmured her thanks. Amon poured her some

wine and turned the subject toward the future, what plans she

had, or what she wanted to do with her freedom. All through out

dinner they spoke as they never had before, and though it was a

two sided conversation, she couldn't quite keep her mind from

wondering. Always, it stayed on the dark haired man before her,

but it wouldn't stay on the topic to which they were speaking.

It wasn't until they were at the apartment they shared, and she

was drunk enough, that the question she wanted to ask came out.

"Amon, who is this queen you spoke of to the mafia boss?"

"You." He said, a little surprised at the question.

"Is that why you don't want me directly involved in hunts

anymore?" Her voice was so plaintive, so downcast that he caught

her arm so she had to look at him.

"Do you remember the night when the factory fell on us?" He

ask, he felt his blood rise in the heat of the memory.

"Barely." She replied.

He caught her by the shoulders and held her so their noses were

inches apart. "I watched you die. I stoked you hair when there

was no life in your body." His hands cupped her face in a

familiar fashion, for a second, she thought he was going to kiss

her. "I watched you come back to life, and since then, you have

helped get mine together. I will not knowingly put you in harms

way as long as there is life in me. As long as my will is my

own, I will keep you safe as best I can." He brushed a few

strands of hair away from her face, and kissed her forehead.

"When you want a man beside you, for what ever reason, I am

here. You are my queen, you are my love, and life, and I will

hear you in all things." Robin was gasping with emotion, and he

heard her blood sing to him, calling him. So he leaned forward,

placing his mouth on hers. His tongue danced across hers and

he knew her choice in mates. Warping his arms around her he

explored the expanse of the reverberating ocean within her.

Though his conciseness told him to wait before going any

farther. After a time he broke away. "I would suggest we wait

to be properly wed. I fear what Tobias and Taxidermy would do

to me." Giggling she nodded her consent into his chest.

Unbeknownst to them a familiar face watched them at the

restaurant, and a shadow followed them home. Touko listened

outside their door, and her face darkened with ill humor. But

footsteps down the hall alerted her to someone else's presence.

Tobias grimaced and was on her before she could move.

"A spy is it!" He snapped her head back by her hair to look at her face.

"Who do you work for... Why are your eyes so familiar?" The door

opened to revile Amon with Robin at his elbow.

"Touko!" Robin nearly shrieked, and began slapping at her

cousin's hands. "You be good to her, she lost her father

recently." Said cousin backed up quickly.

"Sorry, thought she was a spy, why else would she be listening

at the door?" Tobia murmured without the slightest tinge of appology.

"You were within you rights." Amon's voice darkened with

suspicion.

"Amon!" Robin looked up with surprise at him, he jumped and

returned the look. She sighed and rolled her eyes at the men.

"Since neither of these two have any manners, do come in for

some coffee." For the second time in a few minutes, someone was

dragging Touko, much to her remaining surprise, though, this

time by the elbow. Both men just starred at each other, then

lamely followed.


End file.
